


Where I Stood

by MotherOfRodents



Series: Hermione and Dean [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Romance, Smoking, Songfic, Weddings are awful, alternative universe, beta what beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherOfRodents/pseuds/MotherOfRodents
Summary: After the war, Hermione finds herself in a rut; wanting the one person she can't have. The person she shared the better part of a year with in school. Only now he was with someone else.Inspired by Where I Stood by Missy Higgins. Sequel to In The Dark.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Dean Thomas
Series: Hermione and Dean [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134206
Kudos: 5





	Where I Stood

_I_ _don’t know what I’ve done  
Or if I like what I’ve begun_  
  
  
At first, she was okay being alone. The war was long over and things weren't going so well for her and Ron.  
  
Mainly because she still had feelings for Dean.  
  
Her and Dean broke up--amicably--because she went off with Harry and Ron to find and destroy the Horcruxes. He knew it was something she had to do. Just as she knew he had to stay on the home front at Hogwarts and kept her posted on things.  
  
And when Ron finally told her how he felt, she almost forgot about how much she missed Dean.  
  
The first year after the War was good. Her and Ron were still in that honeymoon phase. After that first year, though, was when things started to go south. She began to get bored. And often times compared Ron and Dean during sex.  
  
Since Ron is so dense, however, he didn't notice that she became… well, restless. When she broke up with him, he was shocked. It came out of nowhere to him. But, alas, he let her go.  
  
  
_But something told me to run  
And, honey, you know me; it’s all or none_  
  
  
And now, she found herself in France, on a sabbatical of sorts. She'd been working herself to the bone recently. Right after the War, she went back and aced her OWLs and NEWTS. She got a job at the Ministry. She kept tabs on her parents in Australia; she didn't contact them, but she watched over them. There was her breakup with Ron. She was in several weddings, and helped plan a couple of them.  
  
And at all of them, she saw Dean. They always somehow managed to have a dance together.  
  
They'd talk about their past, and their presents, but never their futures. She could never quite figure out why. But at one wedding, she figured it out.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
It was Neville and Luna's wedding. Hermione was the Maid of Honor. Why she was the Maid of Honor was a mystery to her.  
  
She had danced with Harry. Then she danced with Seamus. They talked and joked about old times.  
  
  
_There were sounds in my head  
A little voice is whispering_  
  
  
Finally, she saw Dean with another woman. And he looked at her the way he used to look at Hermione.  
  
She casually brought it up to Seamus. "There's Dean. Who's the girl he's with?" She nodded in their direction.  
  
Seamus looked. "That's a girl he's been friends with a long time. They grew up together. He's been with her for a while now. I don't remember her name, though."  
  
Hermione tried to hide the pain she felt. Luckily for her, the song was over. She said her farewells to Seamus and everyone else, congratulated Luna and Neville--making up a terrible excuse that she had to go on a trip for the Ministry as soon as she was free--and started to leave.  
  
She was almost out of the grassy knoll when she bumped into Dean. Literally, she bumped into him and almost fell, had he not caught her.  
  
"I've been looking everywhere for you." He sounded pleased to see her. And then his eyes met hers; he saw her sadness. "What's wrong?"  
  
She shook her head as she walked past him. He grabbed her wrist and spun her back around.  
  
"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" He took a long drag from the cigarette he had.  
  
"I didn't know you started smoking."  
  
"I knew you did. And I hear you're quite the alcoholic." He smiled, but knew the truth to his words.  
  
  
_That I should go and this should end  
_  
  
She shrugged. "Nothing's wrong. I have to leave."  
  
"Where are you headed?" He took out his pack and offered her one, which she took, and lit it for her.  
  
"Paris." She wasn't quite sure why she said Paris. But she was going on vacation--and didn't tell anyone she was except her superiors--so she wasn't entirely lying to the newlyweds and now Dean.  
  
He watched her inhale deeply, then exhale. It had been a while since he'd spent this much time with her. He forgot how much he enjoyed watching her breathe. "What's in Paris?" He raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
An action she entirely ignored. "Business," she said simply. She wanted nothing more than to leave here so she could mope in her flat. She was now contemplating moping in France. She could smoke those fancy French cigarettes and drink wonderful French wine and hook up with some beautiful French man. She was really becoming attached to the idea of going to France.  
  
"Why don't we talk anymore, Mione?" He reached out for her hand.  
  
She smacked his arm. "Thanks for the cigarette but I have to be going." With that she apparated to her flat. She immediately broke down and cried.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
_Oh, and I found myself listening  
_  
  
She packed up a suitcase. She stood there and wondered if she should take a muggle transportation, or if she should just apparate there. She decided to just apparate.  
  
She found herself in a dark alley. She walked out of it onto the sidewalk. She could see the Eifel Tower. She spoke some French, so she wasn't too worried about that. She walked around trying to see if she could find a place welcoming of her sorts of people.  
  
Finally, after about an hour of walking around, she found this small area that seemed to be completely and utterly magical. She walked into the inn and asked for a room. She was given one. She went up the stairs and into her room. She closed the door behind her, set her suitcase in the chair, and opened the window. The sun was setting.  
  
After putting on her pajamas, she pulled out her mobile and called Ginny. The redhead answered excitedly.  
  
"Oh, hello, and how is Paris?"  
  
"Beautiful." Hermione sighed into the phone.  
  
"Well, I hope that's all you have to say because I have gossip you'll love to hear."  
  
Hermione doubted it, but indulged anyway. "And this gossip is?"  
  
"Okay, so after you left that girl Dean came with saw you guys talking and asked him about it. And Seamus was there and you know how drunk Seamus was. So Seamus told her that you're Dean's ex and she needs to mind her own damn business."  
  
"Oh." Ginny was right; Hermione did want to hear this.  
  
"I know, right? Anyway. So she got so mad at Dean and they were fighting and stuff. It was so great. That girl's a bitch and he deserves better."  
  
"Is that it?" Hermione was slightly disappointed.  
  
"For now. I'll let you know when I know more. Okay, I have to go now. Love you, darling."  
  
"Love you, too, Gin. Bye."  
  
She put down her mobile and walked to the window. It was dark now. She lit a cigarette and breathed in the cool night air of the French summer.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
_Cos I don’t know who I am, who I am without you  
All I know is that I should_  
  
  
She woke up thinking about Dean. She wondered why he was with that girl, what he saw in her.  
  
She wanted to be the one with Dean. He was hers, and she was his.  
  
She had forgotten how much she had missed him, how much she wanted him.  
  
She got up, took a shower, brushed her teeth, and got dressed.  
  
  
_And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should_  
  
  
She grabbed her mobile and brushed her hair as she looked at the messages. Two from Ginny and one from an unknown number. She looked at Ginny's first. The first message read:  
  
_I know you're not one for texting, but I still had to tell you this. Apparently, Dean and that awful woman were engaged. 'Were' being the keyword there. Or at least that's what Seamus told me this morning. He slept on our couch last night because he got too drunk._  
  
There was a lump in Hermione's throat the size of a Snitch. She tried swallowing but couldn't. He was engaged to her. He asked her to marry him. He loved that Merlin-awful woman more than he loved her. They might not be engaged anymore, but just the thought of Dean loving someone else was something more than Hermione could bear.  
  
She read Ginny's second message:  
  
_I also hope this doesn't affect your trip. You deserve to have some rest without all of us being up your bum like we usually are, lol :) Anyway, have fun!!_  
  
It's too late. It was already affecting Hermione. It was in her core. She was so jealous. She wanted Dean. And that woman had his heart.  
  
  
_Cos she will love you more than I could  
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood_  
  
  
She stuffed her mobile into her pocket along with her key, left the room, locking it with a charm behind her, and heading back down to the pub area below. There were a few people there; they looked like they had been there all night. She went up to the bar and sat down. She ordered breakfast, and a glass of wine.  
  
After she ate--and four glasses of wine later--she asked the innkeeper about the area. Where to go, where not to go, when to go, when not to go, etc. He gave her a laundry list of places and things. She thanked him, paid him--with a large tip--and went on her way. She went shopping, in both muggle and wizarding areas.  
  
For lunch she stopped at this little café on the border of the wizarding and muggle areas. It was ran by a couple, the man a wizard and the wife a muggle, as too keep all the customers happy.  
  
She sat outside and ate, afterwards smoking her fancy French cigarettes. She was on her third glass of wine for the meal.  
  
She finally remembered the last message on her mobile. She pulled it out and read it. Her heart started pounding as soon as she opened it.  
  
_I didn't realize how much I loved you until I saw that my new relationship affected you the way yours and Ron's affected me. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to see that. Will you forgive me?  
-D_  
  
She downed the rest of her glass and quickly got another. She then proceeded to buy three bottles and left to go back to the inn.  
  
  
_See, I thought love was black and white  
That it was wrong or it was right_  
  
  
She wanted him to say that. She did. But she wasn't quite sure if she was ready for it. It had only been a few months since her and Ron broke up. And Dean was engaged to this girl, so that definitely needed time to heal.  
  
  
She walked into her room and closed the door behind her. She pulled her purse off of her shoulder and started to pull all the shopping bags out of it. She liked being able to charm her bags to being just about endless; she didn't have to carry around all the other shit she bought. She immediately pulled out the wine and started drink right out of the bottle.  
  
  
_But you ain’t leaving without a fight_  
  
  
She put her pajamas back on and looked at the clock on the nightstand. Half past five. She looked at her mobile. Three new messages. One from Seamus, the other two from the number she deduced was Dean's.  
  
Seamus' read:  
  
_Oy, Dean keeps fuckin botherin me bout you and why you won't txt him back. Plz txt him back so he'll leave me the fuck alone. Also enjoy your holiday.  
_  
She laughed to herself. Leave it to Seamus to lighten a situation like this one simply with the way he goes about being a middle man.  
  
She looked at the first of the remaining two messages.  
  
_Please just let me know if you still care. I'm pretty sure you do. I'm pretty sure you never stopped caring. Please just let me know if I'm right. I'm sorry if I'm ruining your holiday, but I just want to see you. Please let me know where you are. Please.  
__-D  
_  
She was dumbfounded. Of course she still cared. Why wouldn't she still care? Even if she wasn't still in love with him--which she totally is--she would still care for him. Immensely so.  
  
She wasn't even sure if she wanted to read the second message. Well, scratch that, she did; she just wasn't sure if she should read it. She was sure that, at this rate, he'd be in full blown stalker mode next.  
  
She read the message hesitantly.  
  
_Okay, that last message was a tad bit on the creepy side. And I apologize for that. And I also apologize for the next bit I'm about to say. I will be in Paris if you want to see me… Not to try and find you though. My aunt just got married, the one I told you about before. I wasn't able to make it to her wedding, so I'm visiting her now. If you decide you do want to see me, just ring me or shoot me a text at this number.  
__I do miss you dearly, love. You and that one sound that always drove me crazy…  
__-D_  
  
She set down her mobile next to her on the bed. She stood up and started pacing; then she realized she was leaning a tad bit and decided to eat. She looked down at her pajamas, shrugged, and went downstairs. She sat at the bar and the innkeeper came over to her with a smile on his face."  
  
"Drunk already, are you, Madame?" He raised an eyebrow at her and smiled.  
  
She nodded at him. "And hungry."  
  
"What would you like to eat then? It's on me." He tapped his chest. He was an elderly fellow, and his English was fairly good even with his thick accent.  
  
She thought about it a minute. "The alcoholic's special."  
  
He laughed and winked at her. "Coming right up."  
  
About a minute later, a plate with all kinds of carbs on it appeared in front of her, along with a large bottle of Merlot.  
  
She smiled at him. "The whole bottle for me?" She placed both her hands on her chest dramatically. "You shouldn't have."   
  
"I'm beginning to think you're right on that one, but you look like you need it."  
  
Her shoulders sank. "Do I look that bad?"  
  
"Other than coming down here in your pajamas, your eyes slightly red, and your bottom lip swollen--probably from chewing on it; I do it too, don't worry--you look alright to me."  
  
She laughed as she began to eat, then taking a drink right out of the bottle. "It could be worse."  
  
He then pointed at an elderly woman sitting by herself in the corner of the room. She was wearing an old, ratty dress--probably older than she was--and a bonnet. She was also talking to herself. "You could be her."  
  
She breathed in heavily as she turned back to him. Eyes wide, she said, "I don't want to be that."  
  
"Tell me what's on your mind, then."  
  
She sighed, then proceeded to tell her pretty much her whole life's story, ending right up to that last text of Dean's.  
  
  
_And I think I am just as torn inside  
_  
  
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I just have one question for you, Madame. Do you love him?" He cocked his head at her.  
  
She sighed deeply as she continued to eat, drink, and not be merry. "I'm fairly certain that I do. I have for a long time. And now… It feels like he's not mine anymore. He still was during the war. Even when I was with Ron, I knew he was still mine. And then I saw him with her…. I couldn't stand to see her touching him the way I once did."  
  
He nodded. "Just a question. What's this monsieur look like?"  
  
She described Dean to him. And then he made a face. A face that should not have been made.  
  
"What?" Hermione saw the face and was afraid of what the face meant.  
  
He made another face, almost as bad as the first one. "Maybe, just maybe, he's staying in the room next to you."  
  
Her eyes got wide. She looked down at her plate, most of it gone, then the bottle of wine, which was half empty. "I'm going to go hide now. Thank you for my dinner. I will make it up to you at some point. Don't tell him I'm here." She picked up the bottle and ran as fast as she could up the stairs. When she got to the room next to hers, the door was open. She peeked in and sure enough, Dean was standing in the window, smoking and on the phone. She tiptoed by quietly, keeping her eyes on him to make sure he didn't turn around. She opened her door as quietly as possible, then shut it just as quietly.  
  
She needed a cigarette. But she couldn't stand in the window, he'd see her. She pulled the armchair up to the window, being sure not to go one inch out of it. She lit her cigarette and sat down in the chair.  
  
She took a good look at the window. It wasn't really a window, per se, it was a door. She hadn't really noticed it before. She shrugged and continued smoking, trying not to think. She heard her mobile ring, so she got up to answer it. It was Ginny. She answered it and immediately, Ginny started talking.  
  
"So apparently, Dean is in France. Paris to be exact. What the hell is up with that?"  
  
Hermione whispered, "He's here to see his aunt. She just got married. He already told me. Well, texted me, and I didn't really respond."  
  
"Why are you whispering?" Ginny whispered back, slightly amused.  
  
She sighed. "Because he just happens to be in the room next to me. And his window is open. Or, I suppose I should say, balcony door."  
  
"Are… Are you drunk?"  
  
Hermione nodded, then realized she was on the phone with Ginny, so she couldn't see the nod. "Yes."  
  
"You just nodded, didn't you?" She wasn't so amused now.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Ginny sighed. "I'll let you go then. Try not to get in trouble. And if anything happens, you let me know all the juicy details."  
  
Hermione laughed. "I'll be sure to call right after."  
  
The line went dead. She looked down at the screen of her phone. Two new messages. Both from Dean.  
  
The first read:  
  
_I'm sorry I keep texting you, I know you're not one to text back. You'd rather call. But can I at least get some kind of confirmation that you're getting these? That this is actually your number and Seamus didn't dick around and give me the wrong one? Anything, please?_  
  
_-D_  
  
She sighed. She didn't really want to do anything to let him know. She'd rather him just wait, and guess and hope that she was getting all of these.  
  
After another cigarette--and almost the rest of the Merlot--she read the other message.  
  
_Okay, you know what? I'm not sorry. I'm trying to say that I still want to be with you. Which I thought you wanted too. But now I'm not so sure. I love you, Hermione. I really do. And to be honest, I have since that first night when you just sat on me without even thinking to see if anyone was sitting on the couch. I loved that girl. And I want the chance to be able to love the woman she became. But that is entirely up to you as to what's next.  
-D_  
  
She didn't realize she was crying until a teardrop fell on the screen of her mobile. She loved the boy Dean used to be, and she wanted to love the man he became.  
  
  
_Cos I don’t know who I am, who I am without you  
__All I know is that I should  
_   
  
She stood up and started pacing. She got an idea. She put her ear to the wall to see if he was still in his room. He was still on the phone. Who was he talking to? It didn't matter.  
  
She stepped back from the wall and sighed. "I guess," she whispered to herself.  
  
She knocked on the wall five times, one for each text.  
  
She didn't wait for a response. She just laid down. She needed sleep. She needed rest. She needed a break from everything.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
_And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you  
__All I know is that I should  
_   
  
She woke up at around three a.m. Only a about five hours of sleep, but she was fine. She brushed her teeth, only to be followed by more wine and cigarettes.  
  
"Mum and Dad would be proud." Sarcasm was all she could muster.  
  
She had finished the rest of the Merlot and started another bottle when her mobile started ringing. She looked at the screen. If she remembered correctly, it was Dean. She hit ignore.  
  
About five minutes later, he sent her a message.  
  
_Maybe I'm imagining this, but was that you knocking on the wall earlier?  
_  
Earlier meaning he hadn't been asleep yet. She let her unlit cigarette hang from between her lips as she walked over to the wall. She did two quick knocks, for the call, and a single knock, for the text.  
  
She looked down at her mobile as she lit her cigarette.  
  
"So it is you then."  
  
She heard his voice coming from outside, she moved the chair ever so slightly and stepped onto the balcony. She looked over at him.  
  
He was leaning against the railing, cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips that didn't go up in the smirk. He was wearing sweatpants--and no shirt--that sat low on his hips, revealing his toned abdomen and the crests of his hipbones.  
  
She nodded at him as she drank from the bottle. "It is me."  
  
He nodded at her as he inhaled, keeping the cigarette in between his lips. "Listen, I know you don't like to text, but you could've at least sent an 'okay' back."  
  
She completely ignored what he said. She had one question in her mind that she couldn't quite get past. "Why didn't you tell me about her?"  
  
He was studying her. He could see she had been sitting on that question for a while, probably since the wedding, and that it angered her. "I didn't think it was important." Which was true. Sure, he loved Delilah, he even asked her to marry him; but that was mainly because his mother had nagged and nagged and nagged him about it. In fact, he was talking to his mother for several hours earlier about it.  
  
"I see that as something very important, Dean."  
  
He shrugged. "I mainly proposed so my mother would leave me alone. Yeah, I loved Delilah, but she was no you. And I wasn't expecting you and Ron to break up anytime soon. And I didn't want to be alone." He flicked his cigarette into the sunrise and got out another one. He became quite the chain smoker when he was stressed.  
  
She didn't say anything. He had told her about his mother before. She was rather pushy. She understood why he did it. She just didn't understand why he didn't tell her.  
  
  
_Cos she will love you more than I could  
__Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood  
_  
  
"You could've told me that though." She looked into his eyes, hoping he could see the hurt in hers. "You still loved her." She looked down at her hands on the railing. "And she loved you. She probably still does. And probably a lot more than I do."  
  
He cracked his jaw, something he did when he was angry or annoyed, or both. In this case, it was obviously both. "That's not true. She loved me, and you're right, she probably still does. But she didn't treat me near as good as you did. Even now, I'm getting more from you than I did from her."  
  
She understood now. His relationship with that girl, Delilah he called her, was one of convenience. He was only with her because she was with Ron. He stayed with her because he didn't want to be alone.  
  
She took another drink, then looked at the bottle. She held it out in the area between their balconies. "I think you might need this more than me."  
  
He took the few steps as he laughed to himself. His arm was long enough to meet her more than halfway and took the bottle. He took a rather large swallow, then looked at the bottle in his hands. Half full, he wondered when she had opened it.  
  
She looked out at the rising sun. She looked down at her mobile. The clock said half past five.  
  
"I opened it around four."  
  
He looked at her, questioningly. "What?"  
  
She pointed at the bottle. "I figured by the way you were looking at the half empty bottle, wondering when I opened it."  
  
He smiled at her. "Even after all these years, you can still read my mind."  
  
"Oh, it hasn't been that many. Three by my count."  
  
His smile faltered slightly. "Feels like decades."  
  
She tried to ignore the pain she felt in his voice. She lit another cigarette. Her mobile went off. It was a message from Dean. She looked up at him, slightly annoyed; he laughed because he could tell. She read the message.  
  
_Do you think maybe we could get breakfast and talk some? I have missed you.  
_  
She smiled. She looked over at him before she responding back:  
  
_Perhaps tomorrow. I do think it's too soon to your break up. Whether she was a stand-in or not, it's a wound that needs time to heal.  
_  
She put her mobile in her pocket and watched as his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He put his mobile back in his pocket without responding.  
  
  
_And I won’t be far from where you are, if ever you should call  
_  
  
"I suppose I didn't think of that. I just more wanted to dive in headfirst with you." He shrugged as he lit another cigarette. "I just wanted this go-round to be better than the last time."  
  
She looked at him curiously. "Why? What was wrong last time? I loved everything about it." She laughed as the memories came back to her. "I think one of my favorite things was when you actually did what you said and on the first morning of classes when I was talking to Harry in the common room," her fingers toyed with the gold lion pendant he gave her, "and you just came down the stairs like you owned the place, said good morning to everyone, and then walked up to us, kissed me, and walked away like nothing happened." She giggled to herself.  
  
He perked up when he heard the noise he so longed to hear. "You know, I never asked how everyone responded to it." He laughed.  
  
She smiled widely. "Well, first everyone stared at me. But I just kept talking to Harry like nothing happened. And then everyone decided they had to ask me--at the same time, I might add--what the bloody hell that was all about. The only one who was sensible enough was Seamus, surprisingly. He walked through the middle of everyone and said, 'You two together now?' I said yes. Then he asked how long and I told him for a while. He just nodded. Then he leaned in real close and whispered, 'You fuckin' him?' Harry laughed because he was the only one close enough to hear it."  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
She smiled. "Nothing. I walked away."  
  
  
_You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all_  
  
  
He chuckled. "That's my girl." He wanted nothing more than to put his arms around her. He wanted her the way he had her before. He looked down at the quarter filled bottle, downed the rest, and looked at her.  
  
He could see she was thinking the same thing when she winked at him and walked back into her room. He walked back into his room and paced around. Was this really about to happen? Again? He'd missed it so. Every girl he'd been with since, he compared to her.  
  
He brushed his teeth as he continued to think about her. He walked back out into the room. He stood in front of the wall. He had recently learned a spell that allowed him to walk through walls. He pulled out his wand, said the simple spell, and put his wand back in his pocket. He put his hand against the wall and watched it ripple around it. He closed his eyes as he stepped through the wall, opening them again when he felt the breeze that blew slightly through her room.  
  
He looked around the room. She was sitting in the chair in the doorway to the balcony, smoking a cigarette.  
  
"Took you long enough." She didn't turn back to look at him, but she held up her silver case with cigarettes to him.  
  
He came over and pulled one from the case and placed it between his lips. Before he could pull his lighter out of his pocket, the cigarette seemed to have lit itself. He looked down at her; her wand was in her hand.  
  
"I had to make sure I was ready for you."  
  
"You're still wearing those sweatpants."  
  
"You didn't change either."  
  
She giggled lightly and looked up at him. She took a long drag off her cigarette. She pointed at him, cigarette between her index and middle finger. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."  
  
He laughed as he sat on the arm of her chair. "You know, I've never loved anyone the way I love you." He was one of those smokers who kept their cigarette in their mouth at all times; she was the opposite, putting it between her lips only to breathe it in.  
  
She nodded. "I know." She put her cigarette between her lips and inhaled deeply. "I feel the same way."  
  
  
_But you taught me how to trust myself_  
  
  
She looked up at him. "There's one thing about our relationship I never really told anyone. And sitting here, I decided to tell you."  
  
He looked down at her. "And what's that, love?"  
  
She giggled; it had been a while since anyone called her 'love.' "With you, I gained this self-confidence I didn't have before, and it didn't go away. I learned to trust myself because of you. Naturally, there were a lot of things I trusted myself with before. But I stopped trying to control all the outcomes of all the situations. I trusted myself with the unknowingness of it all. And that's thanks to you."  
  
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad I was able to do that for you."  
  
She smiled and got up to stretch. She stood in front of him and draped her arms over his shoulders. He stood up and put his hands on her hips. He closed his eyes as she scratched the back of his neck; then smiled because she giggled at his face.  
  
They stood like that for a while. When he opened his eyes, they found hers. He leaned down to kiss her. He pulled her in closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He allowed his lips to be away from hers for the brief second it took them to take off her shirt.  
  
He laid her down on the bed and pulled off her pants, kissing from her hip all the way down to her toes. He got back on top of her, kissing a trail up her navel. He kissed her lips; they tasted the same way the always had before.  
  
She put her hands on the sides of his neck, her thumbs grazing his jawline. She pulled on his sweatpants with her toes until she pulled them all the way off. She felt him pull of her knickers with the same quickness he had that very first night they spent together.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
_And so I say to you, this is what I have to do  
_  
  
After they had made love, she waited until she was sure he was asleep. When his snores filled the room, she slowly got out of the bed. She got dressed and packed up all of her things.  
  
She didn't really want to do this, but it was necessary. She needed time before she could be with him again. He needed that time as well. They needed to find themselves so they could be adults together; not the teenagers they once were.  
  
She put all of her things in her virtually endless bag, her mobile in one pocket of her shorts, and her cigarette case in the other.  
  
She stayed for one last cigarette. In the middle of said cigarette, she decided to write a note for him.  
  
  
_Cos I don’t know who I am, who I am without you  
__All I know is that I should  
_   
  
He deserved to know why she wouldn't be there when he woke up. No one should be left in the middle of the night--or in this case, morning. And if they were getting left, they at least deserved a note stating why they were being left. Or at least that's now Hermione rationalized it in her head.  
  
She sat down at the small table next to the armchair. She started writing what she hoped wouldn't make him too angry.  
  
  
_And I don’t know if I could stand, another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should_  
  
  
She wrote four drafts before deciding on the final one. She reread it what seemed like a hundred times before she finally decided to leave it and go wherever it was she needed to go to.  
  
She took one last look at Dean. He was beautiful when he slept. He had this peace about him that he didn't have while he was awake. She put the note on her empty pillow and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He stirred slightly, but was still asleep.  
  
  
_Cos she will love you more than I could  
__She who dares to stand where I stood  
_  
  
When she apparated into a forest in Spain, she began to think about the note. She began to think about him. She loved him, but they needed this.  
  
Or, more so, she needed it.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
When Dean woke up, he saw that she was gone. He figured she would be. He didn't know if she'd be gone for good, but he knew it was for a while. It was something she needed to do. He knew that, and he'd let her do whatever it was she needed to do--if that meant having to wait for her again, he didn't mind. Because now he knew she felt the same.  
  
He sat up and leaned his head against the wall. He looked at her empty pillow. There was a note and his pack of cigarettes. He took a cigarette out and lit it.  
  
He was halfway through with his second cigarette when he mustered up the courage to read the letter.  
  
_Dean,_  
_I love you, and you have to believe me when I say that. I meant everything I said tonight (er, well, this morning). What you and I have is something special. But it's not something I'm quite ready for and I don't think you are either. We need to grow as people before we can grow together._  
_I hope you aren't too terribly mad at me for this, but it's something I have to do. I'm not really sure why, but I feel it deep inside me that it's the right thing to do._  
_I don't expect you to wait for me alone. I won't mind if you see someone else. While the thought of someone else touching you the way I did is painful to think about, I do understand the innate human desire to have sex.  
I do love you, though. More than I can possibly try to describe.  
Love,  
Hermione_  
  
He leaned over to the night stand and picked up his mobile. He didn't know where she was, or if her mobile was even on, but he was going to send this text no matter what.  
  
_I do understand. And I love you more than I thought it was possible to love another human being. And because of that, I will wait for you. There is no one else for me other than you. You do whatever it is you need to do. And I'll be right here where you left me.  
We'll always have Paris.  
I think I'll love you forever, Mione.  
Love, Dean._  
  
He set down his mobile on the pillow next to the note. He reached for his sweatpants on the floor next to the bed and put them on. He stood in the doorway to the balcony, drinking in the sunset.  
  
He didn't know how long he'd have to wait. But he knew she was entirely worth it.  
  
  
_Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood_


End file.
